


which do you do more often, smile or not?

by hardisonparker



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Grief, M/M, originally written and posted in 2011
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-09 23:24:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18927088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hardisonparker/pseuds/hardisonparker
Summary: Sometimes Rory breaks. Post Night Terrors.





	which do you do more often, smile or not?

Rory's body is shaking with the kind of laughter that only happens at 3am, after you've been awake for two days and you feel with your entire being that you should be quiet like the rest of your surroundings. Amy is sleeping fast away in their shared bed; she'd had to take a sleeping pill to shut her eyes without seeing the wooden dolls she'd been given the pleasure of joining earlier that day. Rory was in the hallway. He'd barely managed to shut the door behind him before breaking.

It was too much, the load was just too much for him sometimes. But he couldn't break in front of Amy, he couldn't add his pain to hers. She was coping by throwing herself into each adventure with more vigor; by pretending everything was going to be okay. Rory couldn't take that away from her.

But he couldn't do the same either.

Because everything wasn't going to be okay.

Melody was gone.

The Doctor had tried to placate them. 'You know who she grows up to be,' and 'I'll find her, you know I will.' But he hadn't. Melody had grown up beside Rory and Amy, they knew she was as safe as anyone who had been brainwashed could really be, but it wasn't okay. Rory would never get to raise his child with his wife.

He wouldn't get to watch Melody sleep in her crib, wouldn't get to feed her while Amy napped on the couch. Rory wouldn't get to argue with Amy over whose turn it was to change her diaper (it would always be his, of course) and he wouldn't get to read her Goodnight Moon every night like his mum had for him.

Melody was a hole in his heart that got prodded with a stick every time River Song popped up.

Was there even any of Rory and Amy in her at this point? They hadn't gotten to stumble through parenting and impart any of their wisdom onto the next generation. She didn't look a thing like them, no ginger locks nor too much nose for her face. Not even his name; Amy had silently killed him by naming her Pond instead of Williams.

Melody Williams may have been a history teacher, but the universe didn't need another super hero.

All Rory's mind could focus on now was hadn'ts and should haves and the bitterness he kept hidden behind a smile.

They say losing a child often tears couples apart. Rory had seen the beginnings of it before, when he was working as a nurse in the ER. Parents were quick to be at each other's throats when their child was injured. Rory didn't blame Amy like a lot of parents blamed their spouses for what was wrong with their kid. He didn't blame her, but he couldn't bring himself to love her like he did before. Not yet. He could kiss her and hug her, but he couldn't feel her with his heart. Because his heart wasn't working right.

Rory was numb. And for some reason that made him giggle. Logically he knew it was hysteria, but he was on a time machine in space; logic abandoned him a while ago. He pressed his face into his knees as his shoulders shook, and the giggles turned into gulping breaths that wanted to become sobs. A sound like from a wild animal ripped out of his throat, half laugh and half cry, as Rory absently thought that he probably needed a doctor.

If he'd been more in control, Rory would have carefully kept that thought from passing through his head. Because the Tardis was telepathic, and when she saw one of her dear passengers in trouble and needing her Doctor, she would send for him.

He heard the footsteps echoing off the hallway walls and knew he should maneuver himself inside, but still Rory couldn't get his body to move. The Doctor was standing over him before he even had a chance to force his head from its resting spot on his knees.

"Oh Rory...well then. What shall we do with you? Into the room then, yeah? Let Amy take care of you," the Doctor paused for a moment and changed that thought without Rory's input. "Or not. Wouldn't be out there if she could help you...let's see then. Don't worry Rory, I'll get everything sorted out." The Doctor reached out a hand as if to pat Rory on the shoulder, but pulled it away at the last moment and pivoted around to begin a pace.

"I can do this. I can be a people-y person. Doctor's are comforting all the time, well I suppose except for when their probing around certain orifices, but really somebody needs to do it," the Doctor paused and took a breath for the first time since starting. "Honestly, Rory, this monologue thing isn't quite as fun if you don't show any reaction. How am I supposed to have a brilliant revelation if you don't at least tell me to quiet down?"

Rory still didn't lift his head, didn't say a word, but his body began to relax regardless. The Doctor talking on without end was a comforting sound. The Doctor talking meant solving problems, or just as often causing them, but it always meant change and that was what Rory needed.

Logically, the one Rory should be angry at is the Doctor. If it hadn't been for the Doctor...but he couldn't finish that thought without feeling like he was betraying his friend. There were many things he felt for the Doctor at the moment, and none of them were anger.

But there was no time for Rory to dwell on these feelings, because the Doctor had finally decided on a course of action and was pulling Rory to his feet. Rory, who had been curled so tightly that his legs had begun to fall asleep, fell into the Doctor. The Doctor just took it in stride and allowed Rory to lean on him as they began down the hallway.

"A good cuppa is what you need. Amazing the things tea can solve, really."

The feeling in Rory's legs returned quickly, but he didn't pull away from the Doctor. The feel of the Doctor pressed against his side was completely different from the feel of Amy. When he and Amy touched there was no warmth between them to be shared. They were both just going through the motions. But the Doctor, he felt warm and solid and real.

And that's how Rory ended up sliding his hand down to cup the Doctor's. Rory could feel the odd little wiggle the Doctor did, and it almost made him smile. The Doctor was odd like that. For all that he would hug Amy, or pat Rory on the arm, or even give them each a kiss on the forehead, if it was someone else initiating the contact he acted as if he were a socially awkward twelve year old boy.

But the Doctor didn't pull away when his miniature freak out was done. He didn't say a word. He just held Rory's hand.

In another life maybe the Doctor would have crashed into Rory's back yard. They would have gone on adventures and saved worlds, and Rory would never have proposed to Amy. Melody wouldn't be born and it would just be Rory and the Doctor and maybe his heart wouldn't hurt this bad.

It was dangerous to think about. All Rory wanted to do was clear his brain. They were nearly to the kitchen after having traveled through ridiculously twisting corridors and the pool room, and Rory could think of no greater distraction than the physical kind.

So he pushed the Doctor against the wall and he kissed him.

There was no tongue, no passionate and clumsy clashing of teeth. Just slightly chapped lips and gentle pressure and contact with someone who did something other than remind him of how broken he was.

It didn't last long. Rory broke contact quickly enough, but he didn't pull away. Instead he leaned their foreheads together. Touching like this reminded him of the time they had fallen asleep against each other in a dream world. Rory had been so jealous of the Doctor at that time. Now look at where he was.

"Rory, you're crying." The Doctor's was speaking in a low voice, as if trying to calm himself down.

Rory wanted to say something, but he didn't trust his voice to work. His hands slid from their grip on the Doctor's arms and just dangled at his side. His head was warm where it was pressed against the timelord's.

He wanted that time back. He wanted to be jealous, but amazed by the Doctor. He wanted to feel weak in his knees when he looked at Amy. He wanted to want Amy enough that he would wait another two thousand years for her.

Hands grasped his face and rough thumbs wiped at his tears. When Rory opened his eyes, the Doctor was staring back.

"Rory, why did you kiss me?" His eyes were as serious as Rory had ever seen them.

"Because everything is so messed up except for you. You're still the same as always."

"I don't believe Amy would find that to be a good reason."

"I think I might have loved you, if it wasn't for her." Rory meant Melody, not Amy, but he didn't know or care if they Doctor understood that.

"Come now Rory, you're a grown man. You should know that a kiss from the doctor won't solve anything...or is it a kiss from the mother that is supposed to do that? A kiss from the doctor probably isn't proper. Well, at least not for humans."

And just like that, things were back to as normal as they could be. The Doctor slipped from between Rory and the wall and continued towards the kitchen with the nurse trailing behind him.

As the Doctor bumbled around the kitchen, making tea in that odd and flamboyant fashion of his, Rory knew the Doctor was wrong. A kiss had solved things, at least for now.

The numbness was residing, a touch of warmth from the Doctor's lips enough to chase it away. And in the morning he would kiss Amy and it would be cold, and he would remember the Doctor's lips and feel better. Because it used to be like that with Amy, and if he waited long enough maybe it would be again.

And waiting was what he was best at.


End file.
